Chapter 9

OLIVIA’S POV In the boundless darkness, memories surged like a tide. It was a bright afternoon. I was walking alone on the path that led back to my foster mother Laura’s house. The plane trees on either side of the stone-paved road cast dappled shadows on the ground. A breeze rustled the leaves gently. James was away that day, and the passing kids noticed I was alone. “Hey, look who it is!” a boy shouted. “Hah, it’s that unwanted orphan!” another boy pointed at me, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “Even her mom didn’t want her!” a girl giggled behind her hand. “Come on, what mom? She doesn’t have one!” Each word was like a knife, slicing into my most fragile wound. I tightened my grip on my backpack straps. Don’t listen, Olivia. Just walk faster—they’ll fade away. I lowered my head and quickened my pace, trying to escape, but it only seemed to make them more excited. “Look, she’s trying to run!” They chased after me, picking up stones from the roadside. The first stone grazed my back. The second hit my leg. “What? Hit a nerve?” a boy jeered as he threw another rock. “Even your real parents knew you were nothing but a burden. No wonder you’re a worthless orphan no one wants!” They surrounded me. I knew if I fought back, they’d only hit harder. No one would stand up for an orphan. So I kept my head down, clutched my backpack tightly, and silently prayed it would end soon. “What the hell are you doing?” A deep, angry voice suddenly cut through the chaos. I turned to see Dominic standing behind me. I hadn’t even noticed when he got there. The kids froze, their faces going pale. One by one, the stones slipped from their hands and thudded to the ground. Like frightened birds, they scattered in all directions. Dominic frowned down at me. “Why didn’t you scold them?” I was stunned, speechless. “There were more of them, so what? If you can’t talk back, then fight back,” he said, annoyed. “Grab one and bite them till they scream. You don’t even know how to do that?” I nodded timidly and whispered, “Thank you.” As he turned and walked away, sunlight spilled gently over his shoulders, casting a golden cloak around him. And then I felt the pain. A deep, searing ache that crawled through my skin like fire. My entire body throbbed, my back stinging as though it had been torn apart, yet the pain of betrayal was worse. I tried to move, but my limbs refused to obey, weighed down by hunger, thirst, exhaustion, and the lingering agony of the silver whip. Every muscle screamed in protest, and the dull ache in my back throbbed in sync with my ragged breathing. The chains had been removed, but their phantom grip still pressed against my bruised wrists, leaving a lingering sense of captivity. The cold, damp air of the cell clung to my skin, suffocating and thick. It smelled of damp stone and decay, mixing with the coppery scent of my own blood. My body trembled involuntarily, deprived of food, water, and the warmth I so desperately craved. Without my wolf, I was defenseless, stripped of the natural healing abilities that would have made the pain bearable. But the worst part wasn’t the physical suffering. No, it was the gaping wound in my heart, the one Dominic had carved with his indifference. The one I had foolishly hoped he would mend. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the thick fog of pain and exhaustion, I heard a voice—soft, almost hesitant. "Olivia." The sound barely registered at first, as if my mind refused to acknowledge it. Yet, something about it was familiar, warm even, like an echo from a past where kindness still existed in my world. Was it… him? A pathetic spark of hope flickered in my chest before I could smother it. Was Dominic here? Had he come to see me? Had he finally realized— I forced my heavy eyelids open, fighting against the darkness pulling me under. My vision swam, and for a moment, the world was nothing but a blur of shadows and flickering torchlight. Slowly, the figure before me sharpened, and the sight that met me made my breath hitch. James. Not Dominic. The spark of hope that had briefly flared was cruelly extinguished, leaving behind a hollow emptiness. Of course. Why would Dominic come to see me? Why would he care? A bitter chuckle almost escaped me, but I swallowed it down, my throat too parched to make a sound. Instead, I clenched my jaw, willing the sting of disappointment to fade. It shouldn’t have surprised me, yet it still hurt, a blade twisting deeper into an already bleeding wound. James’s face was lined with concern, his brows furrowed as he knelt beside me. His eyes searched mine, scanning my features as if trying to assess the extent of my pain. "You're awake," he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet relief. I blinked at him, my thoughts sluggish and tangled. "What… are you doing here?" My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper, as if even speaking was a struggle. "Helping you," James replied, his tone firm yet gentle. I wanted to scoff at his words, to remind him that I wasn’t worth helping. That no one ever helped me—not when it mattered. Not even the man who had marked me as his. James shifted closer, and it was only then that I noticed the small bowl of water in his hands. He dipped a cloth into it before bringing it toward me. The moment the damp fabric touched my skin, I flinched. Pain flared across my back, sharp and unforgiving. A tremor ran through me, my body instinctively recoiling. "Easy," James said softly, his grip steady. "I need to clean the wounds, Olivia. It’ll hurt, but we can’t risk an infection." I let out a shaky breath, nodding weakly. He was right. The last thing I needed was to fall even further into weakness. The cool touch of the water against my raw wounds sent another wave of agony through me. My fingers curled into fists, my nails biting into my palms as I fought the urge to cry out. James worked in silence, his movements careful, precise. I could feel his frustration, his anger—not at me, but at the situation. Finally, he broke the silence. "This should have never happened to you." A humorless smile ghosted over my lips. "Tell that to Dominic." He hesitated before answering. "I did." I stiffened. "And?" James shook his head. "He wouldn’t listen. Evelyn… she has him wrapped around her finger." His jaw clenched. "But I know you didn't do it. You couldn't have. I know you, you are not that kind of a person." A lump formed in my throat at his certainty. No one had defended me. No one had stood by me. Not Dominic, not the pack—only James. I looked away. "It doesn't matter. They’ve already made up their minds." James dipped the cloth again and pressed it against another wound, his movements gentle but efficient. "I'm searching for proof, Olivia. Witnesses. Anything to clear your name." Hope flickered for the briefest second before reality crushed it. "No one will speak for me," I whispered. "You know that." He didn’t respond immediately, his hands pausing for a fraction of a second before resuming their work. "Maybe," he admitted, "but I have to try." Silence stretched between us, broken only by the quiet sound of water dripping and the distant murmur of guards outside the cell. "Breathe," James murmured, his voice calm yet commanding. "You're too tense." I hadn't even realized I was holding my breath. Slowly, I exhaled, my body loosening just a little. When he was done cleaning the wounds, he sat back on his heels, watching me carefully. "You should rest," he said. "And what? Wait to be punished again?" I scoffed. His expression darkened. "I won’t let that happen." I wanted to believe him. I wanted to let his words wrap around me like a shield. But I had learned long ago that trust was dangerous. "You should leave," I told him instead. "If anyone finds you here—" "Let them," James interrupted, his tone unwavering. "I don’t care about the consequences." I swallowed hard, something unfamiliar stirring in my chest. But before I could respond, a thought hit me like a bolt of lightning. Elder Alyosha’s death. Evelyn’s sudden claim. The disappearance of my mark. It was all too coincidental. My pulse quickened. "James, I need to get out of here." He frowned. "Olivia—" "No." I shook my head. "I need to find proof. Evelyn is behind this, I know it." James hesitated, then nodded. "Then we’ll find it." For the first time in a long while, a spark of determination burned in my chest. I would not be their scapegoat. I would uncover the truth. And I would make them see me.